


Means of Escape

by scribblemoose



Series: Merlin Missing Scenes Fics [7]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-01
Updated: 2010-09-01
Packaged: 2018-03-29 15:20:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3901180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribblemoose/pseuds/scribblemoose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Episode 1.07 'Gates of Avalon', Merlin and Arthur redraw some boundaries.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Means of Escape

**Author's Note:**

> With thanks to Kis for the beta.

"So, Merlin."

"Yes, Sire?" Merlin glanced towards the bed where Arthur languished, propped up on pillows. "Have you finished with the tray?"

Arthur looked down at his lap tray full of empty breakfast plates, as if surprised to see them there. "Yes. But that wasn't what I was going to say."

"Really, Sire?" Merlin tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach as he crossed the room to pick up the tray. Arthur was wearing his quizzical expression, the one that meant he was being remarkably clever. Or remarkably stupid. It didn't really matter which; both tended to result in a lot of inconvenient questions. Such as, 'How did you manage to start that fire in all this rain, Merlin?' or, 'Where did those rabbits go?' or, 'When are you going to get my bath emptied?' Or, worse still, 'If you hit me really hard on the back of the head with a bit of wood, how come I can't feel so much as a bruise?'

Merlin reached out for Arthur's tray, taking a firm grip on the handles. 

"It's about Sophia," said Arthur.

"Sophia?" said Merlin, levelly. "What about her?"

"I understand that my behaviour towards her must have seemed a little… strange."

"You can say that again."

"Yes, well. I hope I didn't hurt your feelings in any way."

"My feelings?" Merlin was pleasantly surprised that Arthur realised he even had feelings.

"We've never really talked about how things are between us."

Merlin clasped the tray very firmly indeed.

"Things, Sire?"

"Yes. Things. Could you put that tray down?"

Merlin looked from Arthur to the tray and back again. Then he took the tray to the table and carefully set it down. He returned to Arthur's bedside, nibbling on his lower lip. He had a feeling he knew where this was going, and he really didn't like the idea. 

"As it happens," said Arthur, "Sophia didn't mean anything to me. But if she had-"

"It's okay," Merlin blurted out. "Didn't we go through all this with Lancelot?"

Arthur shifted a little awkwardly. "That was different."

"Well, you didn't share Sophia, I suppose."

"Merlin! Of course I didn't! For one thing she's a girl! Girls don't do things like that! Especially with two men!"

"Oh, yes, they do! I've seen it in engravings in some of Gaius's books, the ones he hides down the back of the bookshelf. And girls sometimes do it with other girls. Gwen said that sometimes after Morgana's had nightmares she asks Gwen to get in bed with her to comfort her and-"

"Merlin!" Arthur's face was ghostly pale, furious and aghast. 

"Sorry," said Merlin. "That's really not the point, is it?"

"It most certainly isn't!"

"The point is more whether I was jealous of Sophia."

There was a long pause, during which Arthur finally let out a long breath. Some of the tension eased from his muscles and he said in a low, quiet voice, "I suppose sort of, in a way, yes, if you must put it that way. Not that I would have done anything differently if you had been."

"Of course not," Merlin said drily. And then, because Arthur looked somewhat wretched under his bluster and bad temper, he added, "Arthur, do you think I'd have got myself put in the stocks covering for you with your father if I'd minded?"

"You might have been simply following orders, regardless of your own feelings," said Arthur.

"We both know that's not very likely," said Merlin.

Arthur sighed. "So you didn't mind?"

"She was very beautiful."

"Of course she was. That's not what I asked."

Merlin turned his attention to the ornate brocade coverlet on Arthur's bed, tracing the intricate design with one fingertip. "What do you want me to say, Arthur? That I wish Sophia had never come here? Because that's true, I do, but because she got you into trouble, not because you liked her."

"You're still not answering my question."

"No." Merlin raised his head, trapping Arthur's gaze with his own. "And I think all things considered, it's best if I don't, don't you?"

Silence hung between them for a long moment. Then Arthur gave him a nod.

"Well then," said Merlin. "Are you going to get out of bed today or are we still acting the invalid?"

"In case you've forgotten, Merlin, you hit me on the head with a lump of wood. Using surprising force."

"Nah, it was just a lucky angle, I think."

"Whatever it was, it gave me the most horrendous headache."

"I'm sorry, Sire. Next time I have to rescue you from a strange woman I'll try to find a less delicate area to hit you on."

Arthur stroked the non-existent bump he'd decided he could feel on the back of his skull. "All the same, I can't stay in bed forever. There's the small matter of my father. He still thinks I'm in love. That gives me an even worse headache."

"I'll lay your clothes out. Anything in particular?" Merlin turned towards the wardrobe, but Arthur flung out an arm and caught his wrist, pulling Merlin off-balance. He fell awkwardly, sprawled across Arthur's chest, his nose a hairsbreadth from Arthur's chin. 

Arthur cleared his throat, then said, "I do have a few other duties for you, Merlin, if you're interested?"

"Duties?" Merlin's voice came out as a squeak. He couldn't take his eyes off Arthur's mouth.

"Well, certain activities that can take place between, for example, a Prince and his manservant, are well known to relieve headaches."

"That's funny." Merlin licked his lips. "Gaius never mentioned that.

Arthur wrinkled his nose. "Would you honestly want Gaius to talk to you about things like that?"

Merlin laughed. "No. So. What did you have in mind?"

"The sort of thing where you take off your clothes and get into bed with me."

"Ah. Well, I think I can manage that. If it's my duty."

"Yes, Merlin. I really think it is."

"Well, then." Merlin grinned happily and started to take off his clothes.

This was familiar territory. He knew that one day they wouldn't do this any more. One day, in the way of Princes and Manservants, Arthur would take a wife, and Arthur would become King and (hopefully) they'd still friends. But for now, they had this too. Merlin was glad of it, and determined to enjoy every moment. 

"Come on, then," said Arthur. "I haven't got all day."

"Yes, Sire," said Merlin, and hopped into bed.

Arthur's hands soon got busy, stroking Merlin's back and gripping his arse, manhandling him until he was where Arthur wanted him. Which was, apparently, sprawled on top of him. Merlin wriggled around until his cock was lined up with the hollow of Arthur's hip. The skin was soft there, covering hard bone and muscle, perfect to rut against. Arthur grunted and slipped obligingly into Merlin's rhythm, his own cock sliding against Merlin's belly in return. In a little while Merlin planned to reach down and stroke them both, but not just yet. For now it was very warm and right and making the soles of his feet tingle, and he was, for once, in no rush.

"Mmm," said Arthur, his fingers wandering down Merlin's spine, reaching his backside and spreading his buttocks. A single finger began to circle Merlin's hole, the touch tantalisingly light and soft. Merlin shivered.

"Good?" Arthur said. He was worrying at his lower lip with the tip of his tongue, and somehow Merlin couldn't stop staring.

"Yes." Merlin wriggled his hips a bit, hissing in breath as his over-sensitive cock dragged across Arthur's belly.

Arthur licked his finger, then went back to stroking little circles around the sensitive skin of Merlin's arse. Merlin pushed back, encouraging Arthur to enter him, but Arthur seemed intent on teasing instead. 

Merlin whimpered a bit, and pushed his cock at Arthur's hip.

"Would you like me to lick you?" Arthur tapped at Merlin's hole. "Here?"

"What?" Merlin croaked, not sure he could trust his own hearing.

"Would you like my tongue," - he tapped again - "here?"

"If, I, I, but," Merlin stuttered out, before subsiding into a feeble, "Yes. If you… yes. Please. Um."

Arthur rolled them over in one graceful move and shimmied his way down the bed. He spread Merlin's legs and settled himself between them. Merlin breathed fast. His heart pounded in his chest and his skin fizzed where Arthur touched it: a trail from his nipples to his navel to his hips to his things. Merlin's cock twitched, obviously keen to get in on the action, but Arthur ignored it. He nuzzled Merlin's balls, making him squeak with an edgy pleasure, almost too ticklish, and then, to Merlin's utter amazement and astonishment, Arthur's tongue darted out, settled on the tender skin behind Merlin's balls and headed south.

At first it was embarrassing. Never mind that Merlin had bathed an hour ago and was perfectly squeaky clean all over; never mind that they'd already done a lot of very intimate touching and oiling; never mind that they'd actually fucked seventeen times now in quite a few different ways, one of which actually left Merlin sobbing with pleasure. This was very new, and as far as Merlin could tell, Arthur wasn't going to get much out of it for himself, apart from the smug pleasure of getting Merlin off. It felt like a gift, and Merlin didn't really know what to do with that at all.

And then Arthur actually did it, and anything even remotely resembling a coherent thought fled from Merlin's brain. 

It was wet, it was warm, and it was almost but not quite ticklish, and all Merlin could do was melt into Arthur's bed and whimper.

Arthur paused, his fingers rubbling lightly where his tongue had just been. "All right?"

"Yes," squeaked Merlin.

"Good," said Arthur, and started licking again.

Merlin lost track of time and space, and his own name; of pretty much everything except Arthur's wriggling tongue, soft lips and clever fingers. Merlin had dimly thought that Arthur would do this for a few moments, just because he could, then reach for the oil. But he didn't. He kept going. Teasing and spreading and worming his tongue inside, until Merlin couldn't take it any more.

"Please," he groaned out.

Arthur looked up, his lips wet with spit, his cheeks flushed. He put a steadying hand on Merlin's hip. "What do you want?"

"Fuck. Arthur, fuck."

"God, yes." Arthur stared down at Merlin's hole with a sort of longing on his face. "You look so…"

"Please," said Merlin.

Arthur found the oil then, and spent far too long getting Merlin ready. As he slicked and stretched him and fucked him with three fingers, Merlin battled with the all but irresistible urge to touch his own cock, and the certainty that he'd disgrace himself by coming instantly if he did.

Finally Arthur pulled one of Merlin's legs up over his shoulder, and pushed inside him. 

Merlin groaned, a rich, deep sound, as Arthur filled him. Thick and hard, Arthur began to thrust, moving easily, powerful hips swinging fast. Arthur clasped Merlin's knee with one hand and his hip with the other, keeping him at exactly the right angle. Making Merlin moan and shudder and see stars, and want to follow Arthur to the ends of the earth.

And then it made him come.

It built and built, the deep throb in his balls, tingles shooting up his spine, his thighs and belly quivering with tension. He stuck his hand down to clasp his cock, gave three swift pulls and erupted. Ripples of sunshine flooded through his body; everything lost in the rhythmic clench and release of orgasm. He was dimly aware of Arthur murmuring "Oh God, Merlin," and a quickening in the pace of Arthur's thrusts, but Merlin simply wrapped his legs around Arthur's back and rode the wave. 

Arthur came in tight little pushes, his face red, hair sticking damply to his cheek. Spent, he collapsed half on top of Merlin, and kissed his hair, his temple, his mouth.

Merlin sank blissfully into sleep.

*

"Hurry _up_ , Merlin."

"I could tell your father you're ill." Merlin ignored Arthur's fussing and calmly held his jacket out for him. He slipped it smoothly over Arthur's outstretched arms, giving Arthur a little pat on his shoulder when it was on. "But if you are going to see him you might want to do something with your hair."

"What's wrong with my hair?"

"It's kind of… sticking up. Here." Merlin raised a hand to smooth it down, but Arthur batted him away. He peered in the mirror on his dresser and tried to flatten it with his fingers, with little success.

"Your comb's right there," said Merlin, helpfully, but Arthur took no notice. 

"I'm going to be late. It's all your fault."

"Me?! I don't see how that's possible. I wasn't the one who was trying to elope last night."

"Merlin," Arthur growled.

"Unless you'd have rather I'd have let you go through with it?"

"What I'd rather is to not be late when my father's expecting me and he's already in a bad mood!"

"Ah, well, you probably shouldn't have dragged me into bed, then."

Arthur gave him a pained look. His hair looked worse than ever, and Merlin took pity on him. He had nearly drowned, after all, and Merlin couldn't even think of that without revisiting the blind panic and fear that he'd been too late, and Arthur had been lost forever.

He took the comb out of the drawer and sprinkled it with water, and while Arthur ranted about something or other, he combed Arthur's hair until it lay sleek and flat. 

"I think the King will just be grateful you're still here," Merlin said. "It'll be fine."

Arthur paused in the act of tightening his belt, and said, "What about you, Merlin? Are you pleased I didn't do that thing we're _never_ going to mention again?"

There was a moment of stillness between them before Merlin answered. Merlin knew that things with Arthur would always be complicated. There would be women and wooing and, yes, one day, a Queen. But in that moment, right then, there was just Merlin and Arthur and the warmth of the sun flooding through the window of Arthur's chambers, and Merlin smiled. 

"I think it worked out for the best," said Merlin. "She'd never get your boots half as clean as I do."

Arthur threw back his head and laughed.

_~Fin~_


End file.
